Condemnation of the Stars
by Yikiri
Summary: What do the stars know of his pain? They've never had to worry about the peace of their lives. How could they condemn Uchiha Itachi when they have no comprehension?


Uchiha Itachi doesn't say a word as he enters the house. His mother hasn't noticed his arrival yet, and still works away busily at cleaning the dishes up after what he can assume was their dinner, which he had missed for the third time that week. For a moment, he just stands there, watching her work in her typical, orderly fashion. After a few moments, the senses gained from being such a talented kunoichi alert her to the presence of her eldest son.

"Welcome home, Itachi," she says, drying off her hands as she turns to face him. "Did your mission go well?"

"Yes," Itachi responds, fighting the lump in his throat. He doesn't even bother to try to return the bright smile his mother was giving him.

"Would you like something to eat? I could warm something up."

"No, it's fine, Mother. I think I'll just go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Of course. You have another mission tomorrow, don't you?" Pride shines in her obsidian eyes.

"Yes." Itachi doesn't dare give a longer response.

"I'll tell your father that you're home."

Itachi nods, unable to speak anymore. Speaking to his mother, after the words that he and Danzo shared, was the same as speaking to a corpse. That was all she was going to be in scarcely more than twenty-four hours. As would the rest of the family that had raised him, and loved him with ever fiber of their beings. And now, tomorrow, they would die without knowing how much he had adored them in return.

Itachi walks away, his footsteps silent as he makes his way into his dark room. With shaking fingers, he undoes the straps holding his sheathed katana to his clothes, balancing the deadly weapon against his bedside stand. In the dim of dusk, he almost sees blood dripping copiously from where the handle met the scabbard. The Uchiha staggers backward, blinking furiously, but the vision is gone. He realizes it's more of a premonition.

It takes him longer than usual to change from his uniform to his bedclothes – the tremors racking their way through his hands make it difficult to remove himself from the layers of protective clothing he is adorned in. Finally, he stands in a short-sleeved shirt, and long pants, both a deep black. His feet are cold, as the bareness of them allowed the floor to absorb any heat he had in them.

The Uchiha knows that he won't be able to sleep as he lies down on his bed, which had been nicely made by his mother in a way that only she could. Little did she know, that on occasion, he would purposely forget to make his bed, just so that he could come home to one folded in just the right ways by his mother.

His eyes continually drift towards the window. The stars seem to call him, their inaudible voices sweet as they caress his name. Itachi almost laughs at himself; did he truly believe that stars were _calling _him? _Though, _Itachi supposes, _nothing really does make any sense anymore, does it? _

Succumbing to the beckons of the stars, the Uchiha swings his feet off the side of his bed, searching for his ninja sandals with his toes. Finding them, he slips his feet into place, and leaps out into the frosty autumn night.

Itachi is alone in the field, staring up at the sky. He knows that his parents think that he's sleeping peacefully in his room, in preparation for tomorrow's mission. The Uchiha had been very careful to give his parents no reason to suspect his absence. It would be disastrous, were they to find him here. Though, he would find it more unbearable if his baby brother were to see him standing here like this. He already had enough lies prepared for tomorrow; he doesn't think that he'd be able to come up with more right here. At the moment, Itachi feels more vulnerable than he has in years.

It is the night of the new moon; the stars have been given free reign over the sky. Their cold light shines upon Itachi's uplifted face dimly. Eyes finally free of the Sharingan's bloody tint stare up at the scattered white constellations, as if waiting for something. He expects nothing from what he is doing – in all honesty, Itachi doesn't even know what he's doing here.

Sighing, the Uchiha sinks down into the tall, soft grass of the field. It crunches with the frost that has already formed on the long stalks. Itachi, dressed in his thin night clothes, shudders, tucking his limbs about himself.

His breath emanates from his face in frosty, white puffs of smoke. The air he breathes in through his nose freezes it, yet it is enjoyable in a sort of way. Cleansing, he could go so far to say.

He rests his arms on the black-sheathed knees that are pulled up close to his chest, pale, kempt fingernails digging into them through the fabric. It doesn't hurt enough to extinguish the pain he feels within himself.

Itachi lifts his face once again to stare at the stars. They never seem to change, really. It was really only the earth that spun, revealing different sections of the heavens in routine. Those perfect little points of light, however, burned resiliently, never having a reason to consider transformation, nor having anyone that could force them to do as such.

Uchiha Itachi had no such luxury.

Yes, Danzo had indeed given Itachi a choice. But between two scarcely bearable possibilities – die alongside his family as the coup d'etat unfolded, murdered by the Konoha shinobi, or snuff out his entire clan to ensure the protection of his brother, Sasuke, and the village.

Itachi blinks slowly, black eyes reflecting the stars in a way similar to that of a lake in dead calm. The surface of the Uchiha seems unperturbed; but the inside of him was roiling with venomous, fiery emotion. The shivering that racked his body could no longer be blamed solely on the frigid, late autumn air.

_Included, the unknowing children. _Danzo had looked directly at Itachi, his malignant eyes flashing with a challenge as he cleverly aimed for where Itachi, the genius Uchiha, was weakest.

Since that point, Itachi had known that he truly didn't have a choice, despite Danzo's cunningly thought out words. But how could he ever murder the parents that had loved him unconditionally? That trusted him with their very lives? Yes, it would save their youngest son, their baby, but they wouldn't know that. They'd think that Itachi was heading to end his brother right after their bodies hit the floor.

Dropping his hands from their position on his knees, they fall to the earth. He grabs at the grass, his fingertips becoming numb as he ripped the chilled fibers out the ground. Itachi held them before his face, staring at the uprooted life.

_That will be you, Itachi, by this time tomorrow. Nowhere to go, no one that would care if you lived or died. _The Uchiha, suddenly repulsed by the grass he had killed, tossed it away from him.

Once again, Itachi looks at the stars. He marvels at the clarity of this starry night, and how the light of the ever-burning stars sprinkled about high heaven. The Uchiha wonders how they penetrate the air, which feels so impossibly thick as he tries futilely to calm his breathing. His chest contracts painfully, as if there is some weight upon him. A hand absentmindedly clutches at the dark fabric swathing his narrow frame, wishing to relieve this cloying feeling of suffocation.

All the times that he had refused to help his brother with his petty kunai practice, due to the fact of the stress inflicted by the betrayal he was so mindfully committing against his family. If only Itachi could go back to every one of those times, and changed his mind. Just so he could see his brother's face alight with joy as Itachi passed on his prowess to his kin, instead of the look of disappointment and anger. What had hurt him the most was when Sasuke called him a liar. After all, what stung more than the truth?

The lights spread out about the sky sparkle at Itachi, as unforgiving and resilient as the shinobi himself was. He closes his eyes to their beautiful, distant light. They are condemning him, their godly power over the skies does nothing to alleviate his pain. To be truthful, Uchiha Itachi knows he doesn't deserve to be in anything but agony. He supposes that that was the reason that he had decided to come and stare up at the stars for no particular reason. Even in all their cruel glory, he would prefer them over the katana situated at his bedside, next to his neatly folded ANBU uniform and mask. The way its finely polished handle and casing sparkled innocently in the dim of his room was enough to make him lose the calmness he had mastered before returning from his meeting with the village elders.

Itachi feels the pain in his heart, a malaise that would remain in him, rotting him from the inside, until the day he died. He knows that that day isn't all that far away – at least, not if all went as planned by the Uchiha. Being a master of deception and having unmatched prowess in the art of manipulation, he expects nothing less.

He knows that this is the only way to deal with this horrifying situation. Yes, the majority of the Uchiha were going to die; but he and Sasuke, they would live. Sasuke's life would be that of pain and horror, but that would come to an end when Itachi finally lay dead at his feet. His sibling was in for years of agony, but that was better than being dead. He hopes that Sasuke will view it the same way, even after losing his precious older brother, and his loving parents.

The Uchiha's eyes open once again. Ever unmoving, the star-sprinkled sky mocks him for not being able to do more, to not be able to put an infinite end to the coup being organized by his family. Despite the fact that they are threatening the sanctity of his brother's childhood, the purity that had been taken away from Itachi by man's selfish war, he could hate neither his parents, nor the rest of the Uchiha. He could truly only hate the desire for power that humans were born with, the lust to rule over one another. Though that want had been crushed to nonexistence in him due to bloodshed, he cannot say the same for his brothers and sisters of this world.

Though he is aware that there isn't another choice, the sky above him seems to tell differently. The endlessness of the universe undoubtedly has infinite possibilities to match its vastness. Perhaps, if man extended its horizons of what is, and what isn't, Itachi wouldn't be seeing himself, covered in blood, standing before the lifeless bodies of his clan. Humans truly were such close-minded, petty creatures. Himself included.

Stars are truly the epitome of what humans should be modeled after. They burn for as long as they can, until their fire finally runs out after a thousand years or so. Yet, when that one star burns out, the rest of the universe doesn't fall to chaos. Another star is created, and perhaps another one, doing more than simply 'making up' for the fallen one. The importance of death is just as important as rebirth with the heavens.

As Itachi rises to his feet, he is set with a bitter resolve as his eyes fixate upon a cluster of twinkling lights in the indigo-black sky. They were too cluttered, polluting the universe. In the sins that he will have committed by tomorrow, he is simply acting as a natural agent of death. The Uchiha have outlasted their purpose; they are no longer an asset to society. He will trim back the weeds that threaten the welfare of the garden. And by doing so, he will reveal the flower that had been strangled by them whilst they only cared for themselves.

He begins to walk back home, his eyes set firmly upon the path ahead of him. Behind him, the stars that had given him his newfound strength blink out, leaving but two shining in their midst.


End file.
